Chapter 1 THE First BELL

Emma’s POV

I pressed the strap of my backpack tighter against my shoulder as I stared up at the wide glass entrance of Manatee High School. The sun glared against the polished windows, and for a moment, my reflection stared back at me : messy curls tied back in a ponytail, hazel eyes that revealed too much nervousness, and a old cardigan over a faded white blouse.

The first thing I noticed about Manatee High was the size. Not the buildings—they were impressive, yes—but the hallways themselves, wide and polished, stretching endlessly with sunlight bouncing off glass doors and shiny lockers. I pressed the strap of my backpack tighter into my shoulder and tried not to panic. Every step felt heavier than the last.

I tugged at my skirt, trying to smooth the wrinkles, then glanced down at my scuffed vans,. My dad would have said, “You’ll be fine, Em. Just breathe.” He always tried to make me feel bigger than my circumstances. But he didn’t understand. Manatee High wasn’t just a school—it was a different world.

“Emma! Over here!”

I turned to see Julie Morgan waving at me, her perfect blonde bob bouncing as she strode toward me. Relief flooded me. Julie had always been my best friend. We’d known each other since I was in middle school, she lived across from my mom‘s sister and every time I would go to visit my aunts we would play and hang out. she had that effortless way of making me feel included, even when I felt small.

I smiled. “Hey,” I said, adjusting my bag .

“You’re going to love it here,” Julie said, linking her arm through mine. “I mean, sure, it’s intimidating at first, but everyone’s nice… mostly. Well, the seniors can be awful, but you’ll survive.”

I laughed nervously. “I hope so.

I tried to let her words settle, but every glance around the hallway made my stomach twist. Girls with shiny hair and designer bags walked by like the hallways were a runway. Boys leaned casually against lockers, sneakers too clean, smirking as if the world was theirs. And there was me—eyes wide, cardigan slightly faded, clinging awkwardly.Then I saw him.

I don’t know why I noticed him immediately. Maybe because everyone else was blurred into background noise, but his presence cut through it. Leaning against a locker, hoodie pushed back on broad shoulders, messy dark hair catching the sunlight, he didn’t smile, didn’t wave. He just existed. And the first time our eyes met, my stomach did that weird flip that teenagers always talk about in movies.

“Don’t bother,” Julie muttered, tugging me forward. “He’s a Hayes. Rich, cocky, probably thinks he’s the world. Stay away.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My heart was already thundering.

By the time first period rolled around, my nerves were frayed. I sat in the back of the classroom, notebook open, pen in hand, pretending to look focused while everyone around me chatted like they’d known each other forever. I didn’t belong. I knew that. And yet… Julie whispered a few pointers in my ear, “Smile, make eye contact with people, they’re friendlier than they seem,” and I tried.

Mrs. Thompson, our literature teacher, was already in front of the class, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Sharp hair, sharper eyes. She looked like she could chew through anyone who dared to speak out of line. She handed out a list of pair assignments for our first project. when I saw my name paired with Connor Hayes… him

I stared at the slip of paper as if it had just caught fire. My hand trembled slightly as I tucked it into my notebook. I tried to calm myself. I have never spoken to him or seen him, but I had heard about him everyone my age have heard about him and his family the Hayes name. are on buildings even in the school library and gym.

At the designated table, I sat across from him, trying to look confident. I cleared my throat.

“Uh, hi. I’m Emma. Looks like we’re partners for this project,” I said, voice shaking more than I wanted.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked . “Connor,” he replied simply. His eyes studied me for a long second before he looked down at the paper. “So… ideas?”

I tried to think of something clever. “We could do a story about two kids from different worlds—”

He leaned back slightly, nodding. “I like that. But make it more… real. Conflict, choices, things people actually deal with.”

I blinked. He actually wants it to be real? Most people our age were all pretense trying to fit in at all. But he… he was different.

We spent the next half hour brainstorming. He pushed gently on my ideas, added depth, asked questions. And for a moment, I forgot about my nerves, my clothes, my background. I was just… talking to someone. Listening. Laughing quietly at his dry humor when he made a joke about Ms. Thompson’s obsession with proper grammar.

By the time the bell rang, my hands were cramped, my chest fluttering, and my cheeks were warm. He gathered his notebook.

“You’re not like most people here,” he said.

I froze. “Uh… is that… bad?”

“No.” He looked at me steadily. “It’s interesting.”

And just like that, he was gone.

I packed my things slowly, trying to keep my pulse from making me feel like I was breaking some unwritten rule of high school etiquette. Julie tugged at my sleeve.

“So? Spill it. What happened?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

Julie didn’t push further. She smiled and looped her arm through mine again. “Don’t worry, Emma. You’re going to be fine. Really.”

But even as she said it, I caught the flicker in her eyes—a look I couldn’t define yet. Beneath her cheerful words, there was something there. A measure, maybe. A judgment. Or maybe just awareness that I was… new.

I didn’t think about it much.

Because outside, in the hall, I already knew my life at Manatee High was about to change.

And somehow, I had the feeling it would start with him.